The Ruthless Groom Page 2

  She’s also sweet and sexy and gives me those looks—the shy glances that say so much without her uttering a word. With the big blue eyes and lush mouth and tempting body. I gave into my earlier resistance because I have every right to. She’s about to become my wife.

  Mine.

  And no one else’s.

  Now I feel as if the rug has been ripped out from under my feet at the mention of a Morelli relative terrorizing her at the hotel and knowing that particular Morelli offshoot was in Paris. Just as she was.

  It all adds up, and Winston just confirmed it. She fucked that guy and now he’s sniffing around her, for what? Looking for another chance? I don’t believe for a minute it was a coincidental meeting in a hotel coffee shop the morning of our wedding. I bet he followed her. Made sure she saw him so they could what? Engage in casual conversation? Make nice with each other and ask banal questions like, “What have you been up to?”

  Please. That doesn’t track.

  Did she flirt with him, or did she tell that asshole to leave her alone, she’s getting married? Did her heart pang at first sight of him, remembering what they shared in her past? Is she not over him? I always got that sense, but maybe I’m wrong. Pretty sure he did a number on her and it messed with her head. She’s distrustful of men.

  Of me.

  And now he’s back and possibly trying to earn a spot in her heart that he abandoned in the first place.

  I punch the steering wheel and curse under my breath, full-blown anger coursing through my blood, heating it up, making me hot. I pull into the parking garage of our apartment building, reminding myself I need to calm the fuck down, but it’s no use.

  I’m pissed.

  By the time I’m entering our apartment, I’m motivated by rage and not bothering to try and hide it. Doja Cat takes one look at me and speeds away into Charlotte’s room.

  Smart kitty. Not that I’d hurt Doja but I’d want to avoid me too.

  Jasper makes his appearance, regal in his black suit, his hands behind his back, his expression somber as usual. The guy gives nothing away.

  “Mr. Constantine. Congratulations on your wedding day,” he greets.

  The sour feeling in my stomach reminds me that I’m not thrilled by this. By any of it. “Jasper, I need a drink.”

  Jasper’s expression never wavers. “Anything in particular, sir?”

  Damn, I love this guy. It doesn’t matter if it’s not even ten in the morning—Jasper’s going to hook me up with an alcoholic beverage, no questions asked. “Some of that good scotch Lancaster left behind, I think.”

  “Very fine choice, sir.” Jasper dips his head before he makes his way to the bar. Within a minute he’s standing in front of me once more, handing over the drink, which I accept with a gratefully muttered thanks.

  I drain the glass of every last drop of golden liquid. It burns going down, settling in my stomach like fire and I hiss a breath in between my teeth. Jasper takes the glass without asking and pours me another.

  Double this time.

  I knock that one back too.

  “Sir, I suggest you slow down.” Jasper snatches the empty glass from my fingers, right as my phone rings. I automatically answer it, not checking who was calling.

  Big mistake.

  “Where are you?” It’s my mother. Her voice is sharp and hushed. As if she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s on the phone with me. “Winston said he spoke to you almost thirty minutes ago yet you’re still not here!”

  Oh fuck. I was supposed to go to the compound to get ready for the wedding with my brothers. My tuxedo and everything else that goes along with it are already there, waiting for me. “I’m on my way.”

  “Hurry,” she snaps before she ends the call.

  Damn. The dragon lady has arrived, and she’s breathing her fire all over me.

  “I need to go, Jasper,” I announce as I rise from the couch, so quickly my head swims and I nearly stumble.

  “Already leaving for the wedding? Don’t you need to get ready first?” Jasper asks, his tone even.

  “I don’t have time.” I make my way to the door. I don’t bother telling him where I’m getting ready. He can figure it out, I’m sure. “I need to go.”

  “Are you capable of driving, sir? After those two drinks?” Jasper lifts a brow.

  I wave a hand. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m assuming you haven’t eaten anything today yet?”

  “That would be correct.” I snap my fingers and point at him. “Don’t give me any shit, Jasper. It’s my wedding day.”

  He ignores my statement, his expression bland. I can never get a read on this guy. “And where is Miss Charlotte?”

  “At the hotel. Getting ready with her mother.” I think of my beautiful wife, naked in that hotel bed, wearing only the earrings I gave her. My heart pangs and I shove the feeling aside.

  My heart isn’t involved in this. Not at all.

  “And you’re going…where?”

  “Home. To Bishop’s Landing.”

  Jasper frowns, taking a step backwards as I stride past him, heading for the door. “I thought the wedding was—”

  “I’m getting ready with my family first. My brothers. A nice little bonding moment for us at the compound before we head over to the hotel where the ceremony’s being held. After that, there’s going to be a giant reception for like, over five hundred motherfuckers, where we can rub their faces into the fact that the Lancasters and the Constantines are now united. Maybe those Morellis will get the hint and finally back off. What do you think, Jasper? Do you know anything about your favorite Lancaster and a Morelli? Oh wait, he’s not a direct Morelli. His last name is McTiernan.”

  I make a face, imagining what the fucker must look like. What he might mean to Charlotte. How she might never be able to forget him.

  My chest aches and I rub at it absently, mentally telling myself to get over it.

  Jasper’s frown deepens. “I can’t say that I do, no.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m looking for information.” I glance down, realizing I still have the glass clutched in my hand and I bring it to my mouth, draining the last of it. “About Charlotte and her first—love.”

  I choke on the last word. Did she love him?

  Maybe I don’t want to know.

  “Sir.” I glance over to find Jasper watching me with concern in his gaze. “You do realize our Miss Charlotte has had her heart broken by everyone she’s ever loved.”

  A thread of misery courses through me at the implication of his statement.

  “It would be a shame if you broke her heart too,” he finishes, clamping his lips together. Almost as if he’s said too much, which he sort of has.

  His words make me feel like shit, when they shouldn’t. I’m the one who was betrayed here. Someone’s keeping secrets, and it’s not me.

  “I don’t plan on breaking her heart,” I say firmly.

  And I mean it. Our hearts aren’t involved in this marriage endeavor.

  “If you say so, sir.” Jasper inclines his head in my direction, but I can tell.

  He doesn’t believe me.

  That pisses me off even more.

  “Well, I’ve gotta go, Jasper old chap.” I walk up to him, slapping him on the shoulder. “I have a wedding to attend. Mine.”

  “I’ll call Mrs. Constantine and let her know you’re on your way.”

  “There’s no need. She knows I’m coming.” I shake my head and drop the glass on a nearby table, not giving a shit when I hear it fall on its side and roll onto the floor.

  I’m out the door before Jasper can do or say a damn thing. By the time I’m in the parking garage, climbing into my car, I realize I’ve been chuckling the entire time.

  It’s either I laugh or fall into a complete rage. I don’t know what’s worse.

  I pull out of the garage, the tires squealing when I turn onto the street. I don’t like being made a fool of. I’ve endured that sort of treatment from my family for
most of my life, and while it’s complete bullshit and I hate it, I also tolerate it because it’s my family. My brother. My mother.

  I’m not going to tolerate my future wife making me look like a damn fool.

  And I sure as hell am not going to let a Morelli get away with it either.

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte

  “Don’t move!”

  I go completely still as one of the stylists Mother hired for the day squats behind me and fluffs my train, making sure it’s spread completely out across the floor. I turn my head in tiny increments, glancing over my shoulder to check the silk and lace, sucking in a breath when I see it.

  The train is absolutely beautiful, trimmed in such intricate lace. The dress is gorgeous too. I feel like a queen, which was what I wanted, and now that I’m completely made up, trussed up and clutching a giant bouquet made of various flowers, including bloodred- and cream-colored roses, I’m a little in shock the moment is finally here.

  “Oh my goodness, darling. You’re a vision.”

  I glance up to find my mother watching me, her eyes filled with tears as she clutches her hands just below her chin. “Don’t make me cry,” I warn her, not wanting to ruin the makeup that took the artist almost two hours to apply.

  When I looked in the mirror after he was through, I almost didn’t recognize myself. Pretty sure Perry won’t recognize me either. I look like a different person. I feel like one too.

  This entire day so far has been completely surreal.

  We’re waiting for the ceremony to start. I’m hidden away in a tiny room made just for brides-to-be and her wedding party to stay in. I can hear the delicate strains of music playing in the gardens, coming from the string quartet Mother hired to perform. The low murmurs of conversation. People are waiting for my arrival and my stomach cramps with nerves.

  I’m suddenly petrified.

  “Don’t cry, Charlotte.” Mother dashes her fingers under her eyes, smiling when Tinsley approaches her and gives her a comforting side hug, as if she’s been a part of our family her entire life.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she,” Tinsley says as she presses her head close to my mother’s, the both of them watching me. “The dress is absolutely gorgeous, Charlotte. Perry is going to be so pleased when he sees you.”

  I don’t say anything. Just offer her a small smile as my answer. My hands are shaking as I clutch the bouquet, the heady scent of roses drifting up, filling my senses.

  Everyone is ready for the wedding ceremony, including me.

  So what are we waiting for? The groom?

  Oh God.

  What if…what if Perry bailed? On our wedding day? What if he flat-out didn’t show up? No note, no call, just poof.

  Gone.

  Was it because he couldn’t talk to me? He could be making his own assumptions over what happened. Maybe I’m too much trouble. Too much drama. Too much…

  Me.

  “Hmm.”

  My head snaps up at the sound Caroline makes when she stops to stand beside her daughter, her gaze narrowing as she studies me with that assessing gaze. I start to sweat the longer she looks at me, and I wonder what she sees.

  Wonder more if she’s disappointed in her choice of bride for her precious son. Or maybe she knows he’s already left me, and she’s the one who’s going to tell me the wedding has been called off.

  Nausea hits me, my stomach swimming. Oh God.

  I think I’m going to faint.

  “You’re stunning,” she finally proclaims and my shoulders sag with relief at her approval, which is ridiculous.

  Only a few moments ago, I believed myself to be a queen, but I was wrong. I’m nothing but a mere princess. A mere lady in waiting when it comes to Caroline Constantine.

  “It’s almost time,” the wedding planner announces as she waves her hands toward the door. “Everyone needs to get into their places! Now!”

  I forget all about my worry over Perry abandoning me at the altar as we all fall into line and exit the room to wait at the entrance to the gardens. Everyone is ahead of me getting into line with me at the back. My father approaches, his expression stern, yet still handsome in his tuxedo.

  “You look lovely,” he offers gruffly as he stands beside me.

  “Thank you.” I keep my head bent, trying to fight the emotion that threatens to overtake. I don’t know why I feel the sudden need to cry, but I do. This is an important moment in my life. A day I’ll never forget, for all sorts of reasons.

  And for whatever odd reason, I still want my father’s approval. His love.

  Even though deep down, I know it’s a complete waste of my time.

  “I want you to know…” My father’s voice drifts and my gaze jerks in his direction, watching as he seems to struggle with what to say next. I tighten my arm around his, my lips falling open, ready to ask if he’s all right when he finally speaks once more. “I recognize you’re making a sacrifice with your life. For the family.”

  I’m quiet, sensing he needs to say more.

  More like I need him to say more. To acknowledge me and what I’m doing for him.

  For the Lancasters.

  “And while I don’t necessarily approve of Perry Constantine as your husband, I assume he won’t treat you badly. He seems to have—respect for you,” he continues.

  His gaze finds mine and I watch him, still not speaking. The wedding planner is releasing people out into the garden. Caroline Constantine is escorted out on the arm of Winston and taken to her seat in the front row before he goes to stand beside Perry as his best man.

  I hope Perry is out there. They wouldn’t start this without the groom being present, would they?

  Grant leads Mother out next, Finn and Crew following behind them. Only Keaton and Tinsley remain, standing directly in front of us and the nerves clamp down, making me tremble.

  The moment is finally here. I’m about to walk out there and pledge my love and loyalty to Perry in front of family and strangers. I’m going to repeat my vows to him, clutch his hands in mine and promise myself to him forever.

  “Just—watch out, Charlotte. The Constantines are a ruthless bunch. I know Perry seems the softest of them all, but he is still a Constantine. You won’t want to cross him.”

  He’s the one who wanted this arranged marriage. So why is he warning me?

  A case of conscience? Too late for that.

  “Let’s go,” Miranda the wedding planner murmurs to us, and I realize Tinsley and Keaton are already gone, halfway down the aisle and headed for the arbor to the strains of the delicate music playing.

  Once they’re in place, the music stops, and heads swivel in our direction. I steel my spine, my father’s words on repeat in my brain as I take in the crowd of people. The aisle covered in deep red rose petals. The arbor where we’re to be married is laden with greenery and roses as well and I keep my gaze focused on that arbor, as if I can’t dare to look at the people standing beneath it.

  Such as my future husband.

  “Are you ready?” my father asks me.

  Taking a deep breath, I nod. “Yes.”

  We start forward, the music launching into the wedding march. The guests rise to their feet, their expressions curious and my father squeezes my arm in his, holding me steady as he leads me to my future.

  To my husband.

  My feet crush the delicate petals beneath, the pointed heels of my shoes piercing them. I hear a few indrawn gasps. Whispers and soft exclamations over the beauty of my dress. It sparkles and shines, the train dragging behind me cutting through all those petals. I’m clutching my bouquet tightly, but I can still see the way the flowers tremble.

  Much like my hands.

  I allow my gaze to find Perry’s and he’s watching me, his eyes big and blue and fathomless. His hands are clutched behind his back, his posture rigid, his strong form filling the tuxedo beautifully. I remember him from earlier this morning, in my bed at the hotel. Naked and warm and affectionate.
br />   He looks nothing like that man now. Instead, he’s cold. His expression, blank.

  My steps falter and my father clutches me tighter, sending me a strange look. I smile in response, not wanting him to know how rattled I am, but he can sense it.

  I’m sure he can.

  We stop directly in front of the pastor performing the ceremony. My father lifts my veil and folds it away from my face, as he was told to do yesterday to press a kiss to my cheek before he offers me to Perry. My fiancé steps forward, offering his arm to me and I pull away from my father, the gesture symbolic as I go to stand beside Perry.

  He’s quiet. He doesn’t even smile in my direction and disappointment crashes through me, though I lift my chin, pretending I’m completely unaffected. We turn our heads to the pastor, who smiles kindly at us before he launches into his practiced speech. Something I’ve heard a hundred times already on TV shows and in movies. At other weddings I’ve attended in the past.

  The words are familiar, but bring with them a gravity that I’ve not realized before. Maybe because they weren’t said directly to me. I dip my head for a moment, absorbing his words, readjusting my arm that’s wound around Perry’s. Unexpectedly, his hand settles on top of mine, his strong fingers warm and reassuring and I glance up to find him watching me.

  There’s a question in his gaze, one I don’t know the answer to, because I’m not sure what he’s trying to communicate with me. Instead, all I can do is smile, and he does the same for me before he returns his attention to the pastor.

  As do I, squaring my shoulders. The shaking stops. My heart rate slowly returns to normal as we each repeat the vows to the other as the pastor instructs. I hand my bouquet to Tinsley so I can slip the wedding ring onto Perry’s finger. He then slips a band onto mine, one that is covered in large diamonds all the way around. An eternity ring.

  It’s stunning. Unexpected. I’m wearing the necklace he had sent over to the suite earlier this morning, along with the matching earrings he gave me last night. I am dripping in diamonds given to me by my husband, and while I know this started out as a fake wedding, I can’t hide the very real feelings that are currently swarming within me.